Friend or Lover?
by dudems
Summary: A year before the tragedy…Hamlet is going after the fair Ophelia...But has he missed the signs from his loyal friend Horatio? R


**Friend or Lover?******

**By ~Dudems**

**Category: Shakespeare, Hamlet**

**Rating: PG 13 (might move up)**

**A year before the tragedy…**

**Hamlet is going after the fair Ophelia…**

**But has he missed the signs from his loyal friend Horatio?**

Long pale fingers pressed against the cold glass of the window, almost trying to touch the familiar sight of the building outside, which the young man had lived in most of his life. A half-smile brightened his features as he sat hidden behind the tinted glass of the limousine, acknowledging the shimmering grey clouds of the night sky that concealed the peak of Hotel Elsinore. He had missed the place; his home, having to stay away for the past six months at Wittenburg for schooling. 

The tyres rolled to a smooth stop as the black limousine pulled up in the forecourt of the hotel. His door opened (as it always had his entire life) and Hamlet stepped out into the cool airy night. 

From where he was standing, he could make out most of the royal court waiting for his appearance in the bright foyer of the hotel, the light illuminating each of them against his own shadow. He was tired, tired of life. Tired of waiting for something sensational to suddenly hit his monotonous life of nothing more than fast cars and expensive suits. His pessimism was broken as he reached the double door entrance and instead anxiety filled his insides. Hesitating a moment for his demons to settle he pushed the large door open and was greeting by a warm rush of human bodies. There was his mother Gertrude clinging to him and kissing his face in between bursts of "Oh Hamlet", his father beaming and patting his shoulder, and the other pairs of eyes fixed solely upon him.

It was perhaps at that point that Hamlet realised, he was jealous. Jealous of the happiness his mother and father carried between them, the happiness he craved so much and yet was not entitled to. There they were standing holding each other in such a manner; he wanted that, wanted the soft feel of hands enclosed around his body…

"Oh Hamlet, we have missed you here at Elsinore," his mother began as she ushered him towards the group of people that were standing to one side, "Let me introduce you to the new additions to our court…ah yes this is Polonius, the head councillor"

"How do you do Prince Hamlet," Polonius asked bowing slightly. He was a short plump man, his rat like beady eyes focused corruptly and Hamlet took an instant disliking. 

"Well" the boy muttered before turning away. Normally he would have initiated a war of cunning words but he couldn't be bothered at this point, all he wanted was to sleep since the flight had left him with lingering jetlag. 

"Yes that is Polonius and he has a son Laertes and a daughter too both around your age, but they aren't here right now-" Gertrude rambled on.

"Mother, may we continue this in the morning" Hamlet sighed, playing with the button of his jacket in boredom.

"Of course dear, you must be tired"

With a final hug, Hamlet was left to himself. As he trudged into his apartment a vibrating buzz from his trouser pocket jolted him, leaving a tingling sensation around his thigh. Paying no attention to that, he answered the call, unaware of who it would be. 

"Hello?"

With that one syllable he could sense the familiarity of his friend, Horatio on the other end of the line.

"Horatio?"

"Aye Hamlet, I can't talk much right now but I'm on watch tonight, so come down and we can catch up. Barnado um…he's not coming to help, so um…well it'll be just me and you…alone…" 

There was silence for a moment.

"Hamlet?"

The boy shook himself, why was he zoning out at the thought of him and Horatio alone, they were only friends after all. "Yeah, I'm here, and sure I'll come down, I'll be there early"

With that he turned off his cell and threw it on to his king sized bed, before throwing himself backwards onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. 

'Hamlet you seriously need a shrink…or need to get laid'

___________________________________________________________

A few hours later, once Hamlet had napped and taken a cold shower in an attempt to rid his growing anxiety of meeting his best friend, he was sat rubbing his dark wet locks with a towel and watching the red digits on his clock move painfully fast.

A grumbling sound erupted around the quiet of the apartment, and he realised that it was coming from his own stomach. After all he hadn't eaten the whole day, plane food just wasn't appealing to him.

In an attempt to fulfil his stomach's desire he pulled on his tweed jacket and left the room, heading down to the main kitchens to investigate the leftovers from dinner that day. Walking through the foyer, his mind wondered over what Horatio would be like…he hadn't seen him for a long time, had he changed? He mentally slapped himself, there he was innocently walking, and yet he clearly couldn't get his friend out of his mind. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind telling him it was something more than just friendship, but he plunged the thought further back concluding he had serious psychological issues. 

Hamlet stopped suddenly, that sound, and there it was again (and it wasn't his stomach rumbling) he could here the slight hum of a familiar tune from a female voice. Turning to find the owner of the voice, he discovered a blonde girl sitting crossed legged near the fountain, gazing softly at the splash of the water. He smirked, now perhaps this was his chance to finally get some action. Nearing towards her figure, he noticed how her hair hung prettily down, almost like a willow. She looked up as he approached, smiling slightly, her pink lips stood pure, and as his eyes roamed there was a complete sense of innocence about her.

"Hello miss" he began, "I don't think I've seen you here before"

She smiled again, this time her eyes sparkling coyly, "Ophelia"

"Nice to meet you" He conversed sitting beside her and feeling the soft spray of the fountain water. 'So she was who mother was talking about' he thought, yes his mother knew him well. He liked her, there was no doubt there, the innocence, the purity, and he liked a clean slate.

"How about some dinner Miss Ophelia"

______________________________________________________________

Horatio checked his watch for what felt the hundredth time. He had been waiting for nearly an hour and there was no sign of his friend. He had called him and there had been no answer.

"He couldn't have forgotten" he muttered softly to himself. Could he? He was coming to the realistic conclusion that Hamlet had indeed forgotten about the meeting, and was probably asleep. In truth, Horatio could pretend that it didn't matter, but he felt hurt, let down. If only his friend could see the hints he had given him, the signs. They were all there, even Barnado had figured it out, agreeing to help Horatio in an attempt to win Hamlet, but it was no use, there was no hope, or at least not yet.

**Review please.**


End file.
